I am my mother's daughter - redeemed.

Today I had the pleasure of speaking with a group of women, mostly mothers who are in a long-term inpatient rehab facility.  I was invited there by a new friend who thought the women would like to hear some of my story.

My heart broke for a group of women that I didn’t even know, because I know the pain of a mother who is separated from her child because of her addiction.  I know the pain, because it was the pain of my mother.
As much as my heart hurt because I missed my mother, she was hurting too.  It has taken me a long time to understand that… to feel compassion for her.

Mother’s day is around the corner and I have a special love for mothers.  I have been blessed to have many mothers in my life, women who have come along side of me to walk through life with me, in a way that my own mother never could.  Because of these women I have learned what Maya Angelou meant by, “A mother’s love liberates.”

Today, as I was sharing some of my story with these women, hoping to encourage them on their own journey to recovery, I was reminded of how much my life has changed.  I feel so blessed to have experienced all that I have so far, but more blessed to realize that God is the hero in this story, and that all of the glory is His.
The word that I see woven all through this story of my life, is ‘Redeemed’.  One definition of redeemed that I love is this: to restore the honor, worth or reputation of.  I couldn’t redeem myself; I needed someone to help repair my honor and reputation. God did that for me… He continues to do that for me.  I relate daily to the scripture that says, “He has redeemed my soul from going to the pit, And I will live to enjoy the light.”  

Today, I live to enjoy the light… but I can remember what it feels like to be in the pit.  Perhaps that is why I can still relate to women who feel they are there, experiencing some of their darkest moments.  I love seeing their teary eyes fill with hope when they hear that the redemption I have received is freely available to them as well.
 
Today as I shared my story, the story of me and my mother, I saw a beautiful thing happen.  I saw a glimpse of the bigger picture.  I saw the pain being healed and the ashes being made beautiful.  Today as women came to me, thankful for the messages I shared, I got a glimpse of my mother’s legacy.  And for maybe the first time ever, I was proud of her.  I am my mother’s daughter.  And the product of the love of a group of women who stood in the gap and gave me what my mother couldn’t.   I know this truth, “There is an instinct in a woman to love most her own child - and an instinct to make any child who needs her love, her own.”  ~Robert Brault

For anyone who is a mother, Happy Mother's Day.